


In the Van

by pooh_collector



Category: White Collar
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-08
Updated: 2015-04-08
Packaged: 2018-03-21 21:59:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3705859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pooh_collector/pseuds/pooh_collector
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Surveillance duty in the van brings some surprising things up.  Originally written at last year’s meet up for the picture prompt below created by the lovely <a class="i-ljuser-profile" href="http://kanarek13.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://kanarek13.livejournal.com/">kanarek13</a>.  Edited and finally posted in honor of <a class="i-ljuser-profile" href="http://theatregirl7299.livejournal.com/profile"><img class="i-ljuser-userhead"/></a><a class="i-ljuser-username" href="http://theatregirl7299.livejournal.com/">theatregirl7299</a>’s bday!</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Van

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Theatregirl7299](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Theatregirl7299/gifts).



  
[](https://zdna2q.dm2301.livefilestore.com/y2pSzi7CNghAdXZayWJRwfVEWD47WW1rJATbJL0xnoYKA3GJoG-qNQ-VMVTQbyx85AtI6FSRVjKruLncw8zyzyuR7EYcXBhrnq6dtyfB0TKzduJ-3TjUwDxR5eczsL5yI4CXRpmEt3jyqVWx1BeDMRcLg/prompt58.png?psid=1)

 

  
The van was as it always was, dank, airless, hot, poorly lit and smelling like some odd combination of dirty gym socks, stale coffee and week-old deviled ham.  
  
Neal fidgeted in his seat which made it squeak loudly in the van’s small confines. Peter with his headphones held up to his left ear turned and glowered at him, despite the fact that the only sound currently coming from their suspect’s apartment was the drone of the television. Apparently Leo Manning had a thing for Parking Wars marathons.  
  
Neal shrugged indifferently in response to Peter’s disapproval. They had been on surveillance duty, or confined to a prison worse than prison as Neal regarded it, for seven endless hours. Neal knew that Peter was well aware of his limited capacity to sit quietly in one place and therefore he felt no compunction to restrain himself under the current circumstances.  
  
“Sit, stay,” Peter whispered in the commanding tone that he used whenever he was particularly annoyed with Neal.  
  
Neal lifted an indignant eyebrow. “Peter, I am not your dog.”  
  
“No, that’s right. Satchmo wouldn’t need to be told more than once,” Peter countered.  
  
Neal glared at his partner briefly and then purposefully turned away from the older man and began tapping his fingers on the metal console next to him.  
  
Neal was sure he could hear Peter’s blood pressure rising and feel the tension in the air swelling until Peter barked, “Would you stop it.”  
  
Before Neal could come up with any sort of snappy retort, the sound of knocking came through their headphones. Neal’s attention piqued and he abandoned his attempts to spin his annoyance at van duty back onto Peter.  
  
They heard their suspect open the door and then the sound of muffled voices. Neal held his earphone tighter to his right ear, hoping to catch at least some of what was being said.  
  
For several minutes all they heard were the sounds of shuffling and rustling. Then Leo’s voice rang out clearly. “Did you bring it?”  
  
Neal turned back to face Peter with an expectant smile. This was it. All the hours they had spent sitting in the miserable van were finally about to pay off.  
  
A female voice answered. “I’ve got it.”  
  
“Excellent, let me have it.”  
  
There was more rustling and now Peter was looking at Neal, the same thought Neal just had written plainly on his features.  
  
“This is perfect.” Leo crooned. “Let’s get to it.”  
  
There was more rustling and Neal assumed that Leo was taking out the stock certificate their contact informed them he was in the process of forging.  
  
No one in the apartment spoke for long minutes, despite the continued rustling noises and then Neal heard a low moan.  
  
What was hell going on in there? Neal wished they had managed to get a camera or two hidden in the apartment as well. Sadly, due to departmental budget cuts there were no mini cams available, so he and Peter had to settle for just the audio track.  
  
Then the indistinguishable noises coming through their headphones increased. The rustling became louder and the woman let out a sharp “Ahhhh.”  
  
Neal glanced over at this partner, wondering if Peter’s mind had suddenly jumped to the same conclusion his had, or whether his mind had spent too long in the van and had taken the quickest route to the gutter all by itself.  
  
Peter was studiously not looking in his direction. He had his gaze fixed on the dented metal ceiling above them.  
  
Neal heard a grunt come through his headphones and the start of a subtle, but rhythmic banging.  
  
Neal had never considered himself to be a voyeur, but there was something about the situation that was a decided turn on. Quite probably it had something to do with too many hours stuck in the tortorous confine of the van. His face got warm and his dick began to fill and harden. He twitched nervously. He really didn’t want Peter to notice his very unprofessional response to what was clearly going on in Leo’s apartment.  
  
He stole another quick glance over at Peter and sighed in relief when he noticed that his partner was still staring fixedly at the rivets in the van’s roof.  
  
The pace of the gentle thumping coming into his right ear picked up and became decidedly less rhythmic while the accompanying moans and grunts took on more urgency and volume.  
  
Despite his best mental effort to suppress his own reaction, Neal’s dick was beginning to press uncomfortably against the seam of his slacks. He shifted again and moved his right leg that so his ankle rested atop his left knee, relieving a bit of the pressure on his crotch. He tried to make the move as inconspicuous as possible; moving carefully to keep his seat from squeaking again. He was truly afraid that Peter would look over to admonish him yet again for fidgeting. That was the last thing he wanted.  
  
Neal stole another glance in Peter’s direction, just as the older man lifted his right leg and dropped his ankle onto his left knee.  
  
Neal snickered silently at the irony of Peter’s mimicking of his own position. If Peter only knew why Neal was sitting the way he was.  
  
Things in the apartment choose that moment to reach their culmination with a final thump and a shout and Neal had a sudden realization in the heat of the moment.  
  
He looked over at his partner one last time, surreptitiously casting his eyes to the top of the triangle formed by this partner’s legs. A sly smile crept across his face when he noticed that Peter was mimicking him in more ways than one.  



End file.
